


save you for a rainy day

by barelyprolific



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: B-Team, Canon Compliant, Gen, Healing, Justice for Tom Koracick, Moving On, Post-Break Up, Slow Build, Slow Burn, mentions of bisexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelyprolific/pseuds/barelyprolific
Summary: For the prompt "qadracick + quit looking at me, you're making me nervous": In the weeks after Teddy leaves him, Tom is only just beginning to heal.





	save you for a rainy day

**Author's Note:**

> The alternative title for this is "Whatever, I Ship What I Want".

For a building its size, Grey-Sloan Memorial was a surprisingly difficult hospital to avoid someone in. Not, of course, that Tom is avoiding anyone in particular. 

He’s avoiding _ everyone_. By hiding.

The dulcet pipes of Stevie Nicks sing to him about making loving fun as he studies the 3-D brain tumor simulation in front of him in the Neuro lab. The bitter part of him wants to turn it off, skip to the next song, but he’ll be damned if he allows one blonde ruin his love for another. 

Instead, he sings along, pitching his voice a little higher to hit as close to her notes as he can get. 

He’s just finishing up one long, “It’s all I wanna doooo,” when the door to the lab cracks open and one of the interns sticks her head in.

Resident, Tom corrects himself. They’re residents now, or so Shepherd has scolded him. 

At least it’s the least annoying one. The military kid’s a suck up, Blondie is too eager, and Glasses is competent but uninterested and inaccurately dubbed. This one had laughed at his joke. This one, Tom almost likes. 

“Dr. Koracick?” 

She’s timid, though. Tom sighs, turns to face her without bothering to turn the music down. 

“Yeah?”

“Um,” she steps into the room while Tom tries to remember her name. “Dr. Webber said you’re not answering your pages?”

“Pager’s off.” Tom points to where he’d left it. “I’m busy.” 

“I know.” The resident comes closer. Tom turns back to his brain, pretending not to notice when she stands next to him, near enough he can feel the warmth of her. A small hand holding a steaming paper cup appears in front of him. 

“You brought me coffee?” Tom takes the cup, gives her his attention again. “Are you sucking up to get in on a surgery?”

His voice would be teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear that he’s mocking her. Although her cheeks darken, she doesn’t seem too bothered if her shrug is any indication.

“Not particularly. And it’s tea.” 

“So you’re not trying to get to cut into someone’s brain?” Tom doubts it. 

“I haven’t spent much time on Neuro. I don’t think I’m ready to cut into anyone’s brain.” 

Tom is, begrudgingly, impressed. 

“You aren’t,” he agrees, and takes a sip of tea. Then another. It’s actually not that bad. He can taste mint and chamomile and a hint of sweetness. “So why are you here?”

“You’re not answering your pages.” There’s a hint of accusation in the resident’s voice, and Tom’s surprised to find he feels a little bad. “You’re needed on a consult.” 

Any guilt evaporates. He snorts, shakes his head. 

The resident steps away, crosses her arms over her chest. 

“You’re letting them win.”

“Excuse me?” Tom turns around fully, giving her his best glare--the one that sends interns scampering with their tails between their legs. “I don’t know why you think it’s any of your business.” 

“It’s not, really. But this is Grey-Sloan, so it’s everyone’s business. What Dr. Altman did to you was wrong, and people are being unfair about it.”

Not even Shepherd has said anything like that to him. Tom is too stunned to think of a retort. That seems to embolden the resident, because she continues with bright eyes. 

“You’re a good man, Dr. Koracick. You were good to Dr. Altman, and you were willing to help raise a baby that isn’t yours. Out of all the men in this hospital, I think you’re one of the most decent. So _ don’t let them win_.”

“What would you know about it?” Tom croaks. The resident huffs.

“I grew up Muslim in Utah. If I had let them win, I wouldn’t be here.” She nods at the cup Tom’s somehow managed not to drop. “Drink your tea and answer your pages.”

Tom stares at her as she leaves the lab, shutting the door behind herself again firmly. 

*

“What have you got for me, Webber?” 

Richard’s face twists into the sour expression he reserves just for Tom. Normally, that would thrill him, but today it’s just a kick in the teeth.

“Patient’s here for a tonsillectomy, but he’s had three unexplained seizures in the past two hours.”

“That doesn’t sound like tonsils.” Tom tsks, taking the chart from Webber. Inside the room, he can see the resident from before, talking to the patient and another young man. 

“I know it doesn’t,” Richard’s voice drips irritation. “We got a C.T. scan, and it shows--”

“Ba, ba,” Tom holds up a finger to silence the other man. “I can see for myself, thank you.” 

“Ass,” Richard mutters, folding his arms and scowling. Tom looks up long enough to wink and blow him a kiss. 

“Love you too, Richie.”

Arms dropping again, Richard’s voice starts rumbling up to a yell as he says, “Now, damn it, Koracick--”

The resident pokes her head out of the patient’s room. 

“Excuse me, Dr. Webber? Mr. Danko is asking for you.” 

Cut off, Richard blinks for a moment, scowls again, then carefully smoothes his face into something appropriate for talking to a patient. 

“Thank you, Qadri.” 

Qadri! Tom resists the urge to snap his fingers, just barely. That’s her name. Qadri. He’s going to have to try and remember that. She makes a damn fine cup of tea. 

She lingers in the hallway for a moment after Richard’s gone into the room. 

“Deliberately riling Dr. Webber up won’t make you any allies,” she informs him, leaning in a little and lowering her voice. Tom leans in too.

“Who said I’m looking for allies?” he whispers back. “I’ve got spies.” Tom looks Qadri over, smirks, “In powder blue scrubs.” 

“I’m not spying for you!”

“But you _ are _ my ally.” 

“I’m just a resident.” 

“Can you get the other residents on my side?”

Qadri flexes her jaw a moment.

“You have to be nicer to us.”

Tom sighs. “I have to?”

“_Yes._”

“Fine. Deal.” 

Careful not to actually touch her, Tom brushes past Qadri and steps into the room. She follows after him.

“Alright,” Tom says, clapping his hands and smiling at the patient. “Dr. Webber paged me for a consult on some nasty seizures you’ve been having…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Qadri cover her mouth and duck her head to hide her smile.

*

Tom knows he’s in trouble when Shepherd pulls up a chair next to him in the cafeteria. The why of it is unclear, but if she’s talking to him like this, he must have messed up. He takes a sip of the tea Qadri brought him that morning and flips the page of his book.

“And how is the bilightful Dr. Shepherd this morning?”

“Did you just--bi--Tom…” Shepherd stops, shakes her head. She sounds more amused than angry when she says, “What did you do to the residents?”

“I didn’t do anything to the residents.”

“Uh-huh.” She’s grinning. Tom puts down his newspaper. 

“This is a teaching hospital, Shepherd. I’m teaching them.”

“Dr. Parker has been on Owen’s service all week and he’s being downright frosty.”

“Private Puppy? Please. He’s incapable of being anything but respectful.” 

“Well, he’s being respectfully frosty.” Shepherd grabs a tater tot from Tom’s abandoned plate of breakfast. “Yesterday, Schmitt defended you to Jackson.”

“No kidding?”

“In his Schmitty way, yeah. And Helm asked me if I knew how you were doing lately, but the way she said it, it was more like she was calling me a bad friend.”

Tom takes another sip of his tea. Shepherd’s eyes are trying to search his, so he avoids them. She sighs.

“Tom.” 

“I’m not a bad guy, Amelia,” he finally says. “I’m not the bad guy in this.”

“Well, neither are Owen and Teddy--”

“Please,” Tom interjected. “There was a time not that long ago when you were way less cool about this.”

“Right, but I realized--”

“You know, maybe Helm was right.” Tom stands up. “You _ are _ being a bad friend right now.” 

He walks away from Shepherd while her mouth hangs open. 

*

“Hey, Qadri.” 

She squeaks when she jumps, and it might be cutest thing Tom’s ever heard. Her hijab today is a pale red, patterned with yellow flowers that match the sweater she’s wearing. She looks nice, but Tom keeps the thought to himself. 

“Dr. Koracick. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t realize grocery stores needed permits to be entered.”

“No, I meant…” Qadri looks around the otherwise empty aisle and then sighs. “I shop here all the time and I’ve never seen you before.” 

“Maybe we just haven’t been in here at the same time.”

Qadri looks doubtful, so Tom relents. 

“I was at the diner across the street and saw you come in.”

“And followed me.”

“Well, it sounds creepy when you say it like that.” Tom slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, his eyes flickering over her face. She giggles.

It’s delightful.

“So this is where you buy my tea.” He turns away, gestures at the rows and rows of brands and flavors. 

“I buy your tea at the coffee cart. This is where I buy my tea.” Qadri grabs a box and tosses it into her basket, then looks at him. 

“I’m a little crushed. Disillusioned.” 

The smile he gets takes the sting out of her eye roll. 

“Sorry, Dr. Koracick. You get cart tea.”

“Cart tea, bleh,” Tom sticks out his tongue. “Makes it sounds so dirty.”

Qadri giggles again.

“Hey, so, I actually ran across the street without finishing my lunch...or paying… Do you want to join me?”

“You dined and dashed to come say hi to me?”

“If that’s how you want to look at it.”

Her smile gets bigger. “Do they have vegetarian options?”

“You know, we’ll have to check.” He grabs a box of the same kind of tea Qadri had and starts walking her towards the registers. “So, why this tea?” 

“Well,” Qadri begins, and chatters the whole way across the street, Tom listening attentively.

*

Tom likes Dr. Kim. It’s surprising, but he genuinely does enjoy working with him. The kid’s smart, good with his hands, and he’s not a gossip. He’s usually pretty good about staying professional even when working with his boyfriend, too. Schmitt is cute and excitable. It’s pretty impressive that Kim can stay so focused. 

He sets his tray down next to where Kim is eating by himself in the cafeteria. Kim looks up from the journal he’s reading and blinks. 

“Dr. Koracick.”

Kim hasn’t made a lot of friends at the hospital. He was hanging out with Ortho Ken for awhile, but once Link got absorbed into Grey’s clique, Kim had been left on the sidelines. He hangs out with Schmitt and the residents, but that’s about it.

Tom knows the feeling. Dahlia’s comment a couple of weeks before about allies had been juvenile, but he could use a friend. 

“Lunchtime privileges include calling me Tom,” he says. 

“Tom,” Dr. Kim repeats. He blinks again. Then his massive shoulders relax slightly. “Finally getting a break?”

“I’ve got Helm keeping an eye on my patient for the moment.”

“She’s good with patients.”

“She is.” 

There’s no conversation after that, but the company is still nice to have. 

*

Seeing Teddy with Allison doesn’t quite make Tom feel like he’s winded anymore. It still stings, though. She’s just as beautiful as ever, glowing as she holds her baby at the nurses’ station, surrounded by cooing coworkers. 

Her eyes catch his and she gives him a small smile. Instead of returning it, Tom goes to turn away--and very nearly bumps into Dahlia. 

She smiles at him too. There’s sadness in it that Tom hates, but she’s holding up a cup of tea for him. He can’t get snappy at her when she’s being so sweet.

Tom takes the mug, frowning at it. It’s black, with a purple logo for something called the Moonlite All-Nite Diner on it.

“This doesn’t look like cart tea.”

“It’s home tea.”

“You brought me home tea?” Tom takes a sip, watching Dahlia over the rim as he does. She shrugs, looks away.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“What’s this mug from, anyway?”

“You would think it’s weird.” Dahlia peeks back at him from under her lashes. “Quit it.”

“Quit what?” Tom takes another sip of his tea, smirking.

“Quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous.”

Tom chuckles, shakes his head. 

“I think you’re weird,” he tells her. “But in the best way.”

Her cheeks get darker. Tom opens his mouth again, another tease on the tip of his tongue.

“Dr. Qadri,” Hunt barks, and Dahlia jumps. 

“I have to go,” she murmurs, and Tom watches her scamper off with another sip of his tea. He notices Teddy watching him again. 

This time, he does smile.


End file.
